Soren had spent quite some time wandering the Realm of Knowhere, where information flowed like rivers and secrets were traded like gold.
During his stay, he had stripped The Collector, also known as Taneleer Tivan, of many rare and exotic artifacts, though not without compensation.
In return for these prized collections, Soren had provided something Tivan could never synthesize himself.
Their agreement was simple.
Soren would deliver a regular supply of secret medicines.
The Collector, in turn, would act as Soren's informant, providing knowledge, data, and warnings about the movements of the galaxy's major players.
And more importantly, its forgotten powers.
Soren respected few beings. But Tivan, the immortal hoarder of all things rare, was interesting.
The old man chuckled as he secured the final vial.
"You know, Soren… not many have walked away from my vault with their lives. Even fewer with my gratitude."
Soren grinned as a portal of swirling black and blue expanded behind him.
"That's because most come to take. I come to trade."
"Goodbye, Tivan."
With a two-fingered salute, he stepped backward into the portal and vanished.
Earth – Somewhere in the American Southwest
The portal pulsed open, and Soren emerged into the world of blue skies and bright sun.
Immediately, his senses were hit with a wave of heat, noise, and raw human excitement.
Shouts. Cheers. The roar of thousands.
For a brief second, he stood confused, hovering just above the ground. But as his boots touched hot concrete, he realized.
He was in the middle of a live performance.
A stadium. Jam-packed. Tens of thousands of people screaming in unison.
"JOHNNY!"
"JOHNNY!"
"JOHNNY!"
Soren blinked, eyes narrowing as his gaze swept over the crowd and locked onto the center of attention.
There, at the far end of the track, was a man dressed in a flame-themed motorcycle suit, standing next to a gleaming, jet-black chopper with bright red trim.
His assistant was finishing up final adjustments on his gear, tightening the gloves and slapping the back of his helmet.
In front of him lay a steep metal ramp, and beyond that, six massive Black Hawk helicopters, hovering side-by-side.
Soren raised an eyebrow, arms crossing.
"Ninety meters in a single jump? That's ambitious."
A nearby teen, too hyped up to notice Soren's sudden appearance, shouted toward the stage:
"C'mon Johnny! Show us you're still the King of Fire!"
An announcer's voice boomed from the speakers, bouncing off the stadium walls:
"Ladies and gentlemen! You've waited all night for this, an unprecedented stunt! One man! One machine! Six helicopters!"
"This is no ordinary daredevil~this is... JOHNNY BLAZE!"
Flames flared from the sides of the bike as Johnny Blaze threw one arm into the air, spinning in place and pumping the crowd with silent bravado.
Soren smirked, swept up in the energy.
"He has the crowd. Now let's see if he has the physics."
Johnny straddled his bike, the engine purring like a growling lion. A crew member leaned in.
"You sure about this, Johnny? That's nearly a hundred meters. You don't have much of a run-up."
Johnny popped his visor down.
"I've jumped over worse. One time, I leapt a whole dimension."
"Wait, what?"
"Kidding."
The light turned green.
Boom!
The engine howled, ripping through the stadium like a thunderclap. The crowd surged to their feet, erupting in cheers. The temperature seemed to spike as flames burst along the perimeter of the stunt track, lighting up the night sky in a ring of fire.
"Let's light it up." Johnny muttered, twisting the throttle.
The motorcycle growled like a beast unchained—and then it exploded forward, fire trailing in its wake.
Faster.
Faster.
The air distorted with heat as the tires screeched over the track. Then, in a split second that felt like slow motion~
"Ahhh!"
Tens of thousands gasped in unison as Johnny and the bike launched off the flaming ramp, rising into the air like a blazing comet.
Soren, standing quietly among the crowd, narrowed his eyes.
"That's reckless."
He watched closely, arms crossed, as the motorcycle flew over the first helicopter.
Then the second.
Johnny's trajectory arced beautifully, but the danger was real, any miscalculation would mean instant death, either by rotor or by impact.
By the time Johnny cleared the fourth helicopter, Soren couldn't help but be impressed.
"He's either incredibly skilled…"
"…or just insane."
The motorcycle peaked in altitude, then began to fall.
Fifth chopper—cleared.
The sixth loomed.
The audience held their collective breath. The space between the descending bike and the spinning blades was less than ten centimeters.
Soren tensed.
The front wheel dipped too low.
But then, in a heart-pounding instant, Johnny leaned back and jerked the handlebars upward, lifting the front of the bike at the last second.
The rear wheel clipped the edge of the landing ramp with a deafening clang, the impact jarring but successful.
The crowd erupted.
"JOHNNY!"
"JOHNNY!"
The host's voice echoed in disbelief:
"My God, he did it! He actually did it! Six helicopters! Give it up for the one and only, Johnny Blaze!"
People screamed, cheered, hugged strangers. Phones flew into the air, capturing the legend-in-the-making. The atmosphere was electric, alive.
Soren, meanwhile, smiled faintly.
"Not bad, daredevil."
But then, he felt...
A ripple.
A pulse of dark energy.
Subtle. But unmistakable.
His eyes flicked toward the crowd, scanning, searching.
There.
A flicker of black mist around the edges of Johnny's silhouette, vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.
It wasn't overt, but to Soren's senses, attuned to arcane frequencies, it was like a flare going off.
"Dark aura…"
"Corrupted, maybe? Bound? That was no ordinary jump."
The hairs on his neck stood up. The signature reminded him vaguely of something.
Not quite Dormammu, but related. Infernal in flavor.
He took one step forward, fingers forming the first shape of a binding sigil.
The crowd continued to cheer, unaware.
Boom!
Soren's energy flared.
The magic circle in his palm ignited, casting a spectral glow over his hand. The stadium lights flickered. Time slowed.
Voices stilled. Motion ceased.
Even the sound of cheering cut out like a broken speaker, replaced by a silence so heavy it felt physical.
The world had stopped.
Only Soren moved now, the circle's light dancing in his eyes.